The Weeping Gate
by Haikoui
Summary: She's still infected, and the Aether has made its mark. She needs help, and the one and only being who can keep secrets and sew beautiful lies is gone, and she doesn't want to die, not after everything that's happened. Little does she know, the Sage of Lies is still alive, and he is more than ever willing to help her… as long as he can use her in return. Lokane.
1. Infection

**Title: **The Weeping Gate

**Author: **Haikoui

**Disclaimer: **No way do I own anything!

**Summary: **She's still infected, and the Aether has made its mark. Thor doesn't know it, but she does, and she needs help. The one being who can keep secrets and sew beautiful lies is gone, and she doesn't want to die, not after everything that's happened. So begins Jane's journey for help. Little does she know, the Sage of Lies is still alive, and he is more than ever willing to help her… as long as he can use her in return. Lokane.

**Notes: **Here it is-the long Lokane fic I've been promising. I know I haven't been keeping up with prompts, but I've been hacking away at both school and this to make up for that. So please read, review, and most of all, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Infection**

A thousand and one years ago, he would not have been able to dream of this moment. A thousand and one nights ago, he would have been killed attempting to reach it. A thousand and one hours ago, he would have been sitting in a cell as a result of his failed expedition.

Yet here he sat, high atop his glorious throne, the gold of the opulent hall almost making him forget about the one awful, awful thing about the entire situation. He had his guards at his beck and call; he had his council priding him on his diplomatic policies with the other realms; he had his brother wrapped around his stubby, wrinkled, aged finger.

The sight of it brought Loki back to reality as he gripped Gungnir harder around the staff. All of it would have been perfect—_perfect!_—if _Loki_ were sitting in place of the mighty _Odin._ Of course Loki had no place on that throne. Who was _he_ to be a king when he was really to have been used as some sort of prize to be won for Odin? So he'd stolen his way to the throne. No one would know the truth if the strategic mind behind the rebuilding of their beautiful realm of the Gods. It was all under the guise of Odin.

At least Loki had died with honor. The lasting impression of his character was one of loyalty to his brother. Loki cared no longer for any type of familial loyalty whatsoever; he had done what had been needed to finally acquire what was rightfully his.

He would never be given any credit, but it was a consequence of taking the proper course of action to return Asgard to her formal glory. And when it was all said and done, he would reveal himself and finally have Asgard under her rightful ruler, under the power and care she deserved.

Loki just had to be patient. He could be patient. He'd been patient before.

"My liege," came a voice from a far way down the hall. "The lords have sent their reports on the Dark Elves' damage in each apportionment."

Loki's eyes moved from his fat, gnarled fingers wrapped tight around Gungnir to the guard. "Bring them in."

The lords' messengers filed in, each more exuberantly dressed than the last. They lined up beside each other with their hands clasped formally and respectfully behind their backs and stood in silence, waiting for Loki—Odin—to give his acknowledgement of the lords.

"Lord Siphir's attendant," said Loki, "please tell me your current conditions."

"My king," began the first lord, bowing respectfully to the golden floor, and Loki felt his chest swell with an inappropriate amount of pride, "I am disinclined to report to you on behalf of Lord Siphir of our conditions. We have been conducting reparations to the best of our abilities, yet the damage from the Dark Elves remains extensive and unresponsive to our magic."

Loki frowned. That was bizarre. Thor and even Heimdall had ascertained the destruction of the Aether—of _Malekith. _The lord was dead, and the Aether along with it. "No significant progress has been made regarding reparations?"

"Not nearly enough to be sufficiently reportable, my king," said the lord's attendant.

"What of all of you?" Loki inquired to the rest of them.

One attendant stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "Our reconstruction efforts are valiant, my king, but to no avail."

Loki remained silent, watching the attendants with his—Odin's—good eye. Finally, with a nod of his head, he said, "Your information has been helpful. Continue your efforts and report to me your achievements in due time."

The attendants all bowed at once and filed out of the hall one by one. As the hall's magnificent doors shut with a grand chime, Loki bowed his head to think. _The Aether has been destroyed,_ he thought to himself. _Hasn't it?_

He'd been there when the Aether had been transferred from Thor's plaything to Malekith. He'd seen Thor attempt to destroy the relic with lightning before it reassembled and delved into the body of the Dark Elf. He'd seen it with his own eyes. Heimdall had _told_ him—well, Odin—that the elf was dead, that the reason he knew was because he could _see_ the elf now that Malekith was truly gone.

So there should, ultimately, be no conflict in conducting reparations.

Loki drummed his left hand's fingers on the throne's arm.

What of that mortal?

_She's lucky to be alive,_ thought Loki snidely. Then he stopped. His fingers halted their actions on the arm of the throne and his—_Odin's,_ said that godforsaken voice—good eye narrowed.

Such fortune!

Could it truly be? Loki focused again on the image of the Aether splitting apart on the desolate plains of Svartalfheim after Thor's thunderous terror upon the powerful substance. If it could separate like that… and _survive…_

It should not be so pleasing to him. He let a small grin form on his lips anyway.

With a new drumming in his chest, Loki stood slowly and made his way to Heimdall.

* * *

"Hey, Jane? Are you okay?"

Jane looked up from her laptop to see Darcy standing beside her with a bowl of soup in her hands. "Yeah," said Jane. "I'm fine. Why're you asking?"

"You were frowning a lot more than you frown normally," said Darcy, spooning some soup into her mouth. She left her mouth open for a little while as she panted from the heat of the soup before swallowing. "Y'know, more than when you have to actually dress to get out of the apartment."

"Yeah, I just—I have a slight headache, I guess," said Jane. She had a nagging pain behind her eyes she couldn't quite pinpoint, now that she focused on it.

"Mm. Well, don't frown too much," said Darcy. "You'll get lots of wrinkles. Right… there. Right there." Darcy's index finger had found the spot between Jane's eyebrows.

Jane rolled her eyes. "Okay, Darcy."

"Good. Want some soup?"

"No, thanks."

"How about—"

"No, Darcy."

"Okay. Well, then, you should have some—"

"Darcy, I said _no!"_

"Geez, alright," said Darcy, furrowing her brows at Jane. "You just look like crap, that's all. Seriously. Haven't you been getting any sleep?"

"Yes," snapped Jane.

Darcy didn't respond, and immediately, Jane regretted her irritation. "Darcy—I'm sorry. I'm alright, though. Really. If I want something, I can get it myself. You don't need to worry about me."

Her intern sighed and sat down across from Jane. "You've just been different since you came back. I know a lot of the time I act really obnoxious about stuff you do, but I'm actually worried. You didn't even say one word to me about messing with your crazy science doohickeys in the corner today."

"You _what?_"

"Nothing," said Darcy. "When Ian stops by, let him know I'll be ready by seven fifteen!" She leapt up from her seat and flittered away to her room.

Left to stare blankly at her screen, Jane pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes in exhaustion. She was very easily annoyed for some odd reason today, and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why…

There was a knock on the door minutes later, and Jane opened her eyes with a slight jump, realizing she'd dozed off in front of her computer. She pushed herself out of her chair and wavered slightly, holding her head as she regained her balance. "Who is it?" she called.

"Hi, Jane!" came Ian's voice cheerily from behind the door.

"Like girlfriend, like boyfriend," Jane muttered, crossing to the flat door. Ian's face greeted hers warmly as she pulled the door from the lock.

"How's it going, boss?" Ian questioned, standing politely past the threshold.

Jane moved aside to let him in. "Fine. Isn't Darcy your boss?"

"I reckon."

"At any rate," said Jane, "she'll be a couple more minutes."

Ian smiled in acknowledgement as Darcy called out from her room, "Is Ian here?"

"Hello, darling," Ian called back.

"Hi!"

"I'll just wait out here for you!"

"Sorry—could you tone it down?" Jane asked, feeling her headache press behind her eyes again. "I must be catching a cold, or something. I'm really sensitive. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," said Ian. "Mind if I sit?"

"Help yourself."

He wandered to the small loveseat in front of the television set to wait for Darcy. Jane looked past him to the balcony, feeling a small sense of loss as she did so. Every day, she waited for a shimmering light to descend behind her window, for a certain Norse God to land on urban backdrop of London… but it had almost a month since his last visit, and though he showed up much more often than _before,_ Jane felt as though she deserved a little more communication and explanation than a sparse "Hello, my Lady Jane!" every couple weeks or so.

"Hm," Ian piped from the couch, spanning several DVDs over the coffee table. "Lots of romantic comedies. You like these?"

"Just because I'm a scientist doesn't mean I'm not a girl," said Jane, picking one up. "I actually kind of like these."

"_The Holiday,"_ said Ian, pulling a face. "Well, if Darcy likes it, I guess I can like it, too."

There was a clamor from the kitchen behind Jane and Ian. "I prefer movies where things go _boom! _and _bang!_ and explode," said Darcy. She feigned a gasp. "Like your _boyfriend!_ Gosh, Jane, I am a _genius._"

Jane felt a wave of nausea hit her and she sat down on the sofa as Ian pushed himself off in order to not shake on her legs. "Have fun."

"Thank you," said Ian. "I'll bring her back before midnight—"

"Midnight shmidnight, intern, she isn't my mother," said Darcy.

"She's your boss—"

"Eh. She can stand it if I don't come home for a night."

"Alright, you guys," said Jane, "that's enough. Bye." She waved them off as they exited her flat before she tilted her head back against the back of the loveseat.

She felt miserable! What was going on? She hadn't even noticed how bad she felt until around an hour ago, and all of a sudden she felt like she'd spent ten hours flying in circles on that contraption the Dark Elves left on Asgard. Jane shut her eyes and frowned, trying to tune out the ache behind her eyes. She was probably too tired from all the work she'd been doing… though she hadn't really done anything more than usual.

After a while, she opened her eyes and stared above her as her eyesight adjusted from a subtle red to the normal color and atmosphere of the flat. There was a thud from another room in the flat and Jane knew that Erik was probably getting ready for bed—his schedule differed every day, so Jane learned to go along with what he wanted to do, with what he was most comfortable.

She felt herself prickle with anger at what happened to Erik. At what Loki did to him. But she shoved it away, knowing that Loki had gotten what he'd deserved.

More than he deserved.

Jane swallowed the thought away guiltily. In the end, he'd done the right thing for his brother… Thor had always believed in him. He'd always believed that somewhere in him, there was the brother Thor had always known. Not that monster. Loki had paid the price of what he did—the ultimate price of death. Thor was broken. She remembered how he'd pulled himself together to fight against Malekith, but Thor was hurting. Badly.

The door to Erik's room opened and he stepped out to smile at Jane. "I'm going to bed, Jane. Goodnight!"

"'Night, Erik," said Jane.

He waved at her before shutting his door again, and seconds later, Jane heard him fall on top of his bed. She smiled to herself before tilting her head back again on the loveseat, staring up at the ceiling once more. Behind her eyes came a very slight, dull ache and Jane simply exhaled in response.

* * *

"My king."

"Heimdall," Loki responded. "Perhaps you may do me a favor."

Heimdall remained silent, watching Loki with eyes so gold he felt as though he were staring into Yggdrasil himself. Loki inwardly strengthened his illusion and made sure his shadow his presence from the Gatekeeper. "How fares Thor's mortal?"

There was no immediate reply from Heimdall. His eyes seemed to shift from looking at Loki to looking _through_ him; the gold in his eyes swirled and mixed with colors of Yggdrasil that Loki had seen once before, when he had fallen through the tree himself. Finally, the Gatekeeper's eyes focused on Loki again.

"She is elusive," says Heimdall. "It is peculiar. She fares well, yet she fades in and out of my vision."

Loki, his blood thrumming through his veins, kept his face blank of emotion. "Is there a source to this?"

"No, my king, I cannot possibly imagine why."

Loki only said, "Keep a watch on her, Heimdall," before leaving the Bifrost gate and mounting on his stallion.

He hooked his legs into the hanging stirrups and cast his eye on Gungnir. The spear was said to be able to strike any target, regardless of the wielder. Could it do more than simply serve as an extension of his arm? Could it, perhaps…

No, that would be ridiculous. He'd allow Heimdall to watch her. Loki had more important errands to run as All Father, and he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by a petty mortal.

_One glimpse._ And maybe, maybe—maybe he would know for certain if his presumption happened to be true—if the Aether truly _was _infecting her, if there were still one scarlet drop of the relic running through her mortally thin veins—

Loki clapped his stallion on both flanks by his boots and rode all the way back to the palace.

* * *

**Short first chapter. Typically my chapters range from three to four thousand words, but this could almost be considered a "prologue" chapter. I hope you all are somewhat intrigued. No Thor yet, but he will be popping by soon. The chapters will get longer and more involved as the fic progresses. For those of you wondering how long this fic will be, it will be over twenty-five chapters. I am **_**very**_** excited to start this! **

**Please review and let me know what would be good to work on. I have the entire plot written out and the only challenge now is writing it. I hope you stick by me as I start this. I will also start replying to reviews and any questions you all have (they will most likely be featured at the end of each chapter, meaning they will be review replies for the previous chapter).**

**Thank you and remember to review! Just because I have the plot planned out doesn't mean I'll be inspired to write… ;) Thanks, guys!**


	2. Perception

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing! All characters and objects belong to Marvel.

**Notes: **Thank you, thank you, thank you for the warm reception of this fic! I'm so glad you all are enjoying it. I love writing it just as much as you hopefully like reading it. Expect somewhat regular updates!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Perception**

"_I only ask for one thing in return." _The voice was all around her, consuming her, malevolent and harsh with hate. _"A good seat from which to watch Asgard burn!"_

She was on the ground, and then she was in the air, and then she was choking and everything was red and burning hot and she felt as though she were being torn into a million pieces as her blood seemed to burst from her veins. Then she was on the ground again, and he was over her as his brother called forth lightning to destroy the relic that had seconds ago been in her veins.

But then she relived it. Over and over and over again. _"I am Loki, of Jotunnheim! And I bring you a gift!"_

He picked her up and threw her down once more. "_I only ask for one thing in return—a good seat from which to watch Asgard burn!"_

And she choked again. Her stomach seemed to rise up into her throat as the Aether filtered out of her mouth like a thick, warm snake.

"_I bring you a GIFT!"_

It was like a never-ending cycle: she was tossed around and her vision seemed to be stuck on only red pigmentation. She gagged on warm liquid—much, much like blood, she realized—and she saw Loki. Everywhere. He was smiling with red teeth, red eyes, red blood starting to trickle from his mouth, red from his gut as he smiled at her with the spear protruding from his stomach. "_I bring you a gift,"_ he said, staring straight through her, right at the relic she knew was swirling in her body.

Jane's eyes shot open as she lay in her bed, gripping her duvet with white knuckles. The ache behind her eyes was stronger, pulsing with her racing heartbeat. Swallowing, Jane twisted over on her mattress to squint at the time on her phone. Three in the morning. Wonderful.

She rolled over onto her back and fought the urge to close her eyes. She couldn't dream of that again. She couldn't envision more blood than what she'd already seen… it was as dark and thick as the Aether that had infected her. It rolled around in her mind like an immortal parasite. It was as alive and vital to her as her own blood—

—what was _wrong_ with her? Jane shivered in disgust at herself.

"_I bring you a gift,"_ said Loki. It was almost like he was sitting in her room, watching her. She couldn't get the dream out of her head. Her eyes remained wide open, trying to find some way to distract herself from going back to sleep and seeing those awful flashbacks, where Thor was writhing in pain on the ground and Loki was stabbed over and over again in his stomach as he watched the Aether escape from Jane's body.

Jane pushed herself off the bed and switched on the lights, standing in the bright room with her eyes shut in order to adjust to the sudden change. When she did open her eyes and brought her hands up to rub at them, she nearly fainted at the sight.

Either she was still dreaming, or she'd just seen a glimmer of red streak through the veins in her arms.

* * *

Mjolnir hung tamely in Thor's hand as he surveyed the work of the guards in one end of the palace. For the most part, the damage remained untouched, and everyone was perplexed on the status of reparations. It was a matter of cleaning up simple stones and minerals. How hard could it be?

The problem wasn't getting the debris out of the way. The problem was rebuilding. Some sort of sorcery would not allow for the columns to be rebuilt; some sort of mysticism would not permit the floors to be filled and the statues to be carved.

Odin had took Thor aside and told him that until these reparations are finished, he shall remain on Asgard. This displeased Thor quite a bit. He had been hoping to travel back to Midgard to see Jane, but Odin's constraints made that nearly impossible. Thankfully, he had managed to acquire time in the later hours of the day to use the Bifrost to get to Jane. He had business with her, and it was imperative she be with him for such an important occasion in several days' time.

Thor looked down at Mjolnir. His thoughts had taken a grim turn once more. It was difficult to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, for the past month had been aggravatingly dull and somber. He had brought Loki out of prison with the hopes of somehow regaining his lost brother out of the man who had killed thousands of innocent beings. He had not intended, not at all, to see his brother die before his eyes.

His eyes shut for a brief moment as he saw Loki's decaying form in front of him.

"_I was a fool,"_ Loki had gasped. "_You were right. You were right…"_

Thor's eyes reopened.

He missed his brother. Horribly. Over a thousand years with his beloved younger brother, and Thor had almost forgotten life without him. Even when Loki was in the dungeons, Thor had felt his presence, be it mischievous or intimidated or, Valhalla above, murderous.

There was a crack of stone beside him and Thor caught sight of Sif step to his right. "How goes the reconstruction efforts, my prince?" she inquired politely.

"To no avail," said Thor. "Unfortunately."

"Does the All Father know of the source of this sorcery?" continued Sif, frowning slightly at the guards, who lugged stone around uselessly.

"He has not said one word," Thor replied. "Once more, it seems he is keeping secrets… unwilling to let me know of what he is doing. I do not know whether he suspects any source for this magic."

"All we can do is help and wait," said Sif, pursing her lips.

Thor nodded in agreement, his grip on Mjolnir tightening. "For now." He took one more look at Sif, noting how her hair was not pulled up in her traditional long stallion's tail, and said, "I must speak to Fandral. Will you accompany me, or remain here?"

She took a look around them and one of her eyebrows rose by a fraction. "And leave this mess? No, I'll remain here."

"I'll inform you of our discussion later," said Thor, turning away. He couldn't keep a smile off his face as he strode away when he heard her call after him, "I look forward to it!"

When he found Fandral, occupied in a fencing coup with himself (one of the only things Thor found him doing other than drinking and kissing women), the swordsman jabbed his weapon at Thor in mock attempt to engage him in battle.

"You and I both know that fighting now tires me greatly, Fandral," said Thor smilingly.

"Yes, yes," sighed Fandral, sheathing his sword. The beau paused to take a second and flatten his hair, breathing heavily. "How can I be of assistance to you, my friend?"

Thor came to stand in front of him, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Listen carefully to me, Fandral," he said, all semblance of joking left behind with Fandral's sword. "These reparations are very important, and they must be finished. I wish to not have to demand this of you, but I require all of your attention on aiding our people. There is some sort of sorcery on our efforts… we are unable to complete our task. Reconstruction efforts are futile, my friend."

Fandral's brows furrowed deeply. "Thor, I do appreciate your concern with my intentions, but I must assure you I am already working on aiding our reparation efforts." He took a second to search Thor's face, then added, "I see. This is about your mortal woman."

Thor exhaled heavily and stepped away.

"She will understand if you must remain here to oversee the reconstruction," said Fandral.

"I have no doubt she will," Thor murmured. "I only wish to have more time to spend with her. With my days spent here, I lose precious time with Jane… as a mortal, she can only live so long."

"Well, bring her here."

"No, no, I cannot take her from her family."

Fandral stood silently, his face thoughtful. "Then… perhaps bring her family here?"

"That will not work."

"How troublesome," sighed Fandral. "I'm afraid I'm not help with mortals, my friend. What a shame. Realms are at our fingertips with the Bifrost… if only Midgard had such technology. Your relationship would be much more accessible."

"Thank you for your input, Fandral," said Thor, slightly amused, now. "However, I do not wish to bring all of Jane's family and friends to Asgard. Midgard is their home. I understand the importance of home to a being. Even being away from Asgard for three days' time rendered me horribly awful in attitude, I must admit."

Fandral unsheathed his sword once more and twirled it around in his hands, like a baton. "Should you like to visit your mortal, I will oversee the efforts here to the best of my ability."

"I would like that greatly," said Thor. "I will only be away for a small while. If you can… do not speak of it to my father."

His friend _mmm_ed in acknowledgment. With a clap of his hand on Fandral's back, Thor left to find Volstagg, before once more searching for Sif.

* * *

Gungnir was not the foretelling weapon Loki had hoped it would be, but with his sorcery, it seemed much more capable of being a weapon designed to intrude on anything Loki liked. It acted as a spear to anything Loki could lay his mystic thoughts on, most notably dreams.

This had proved to be quite useful.

That was, until he tried to infiltrate another person's dreams. Specifically a mortal's. Even more specifically, Jane Foster's.

When Loki had first tried it, Gungnir had flown straight out of his grasp, clattering against the wall on the other side of his—Odin's—private room; Loki saw his reflection flicker in the gold walls, his eyes widening at the sight of his own face as Odin's illusion wavered and fell.

He was practicing hard magic. Difficult to sustain for a long amount of time. Loki allowed himself to gaze at his reflection, to soak in his appearance, his hard, green eyes glaring back at him with something he could not pinpoint. Then he shut his eyes, breathed in, out, in, out… and felt the wave of magic descend upon him again. When his eyes opened, there stood Odin, old, short, wrinkled, and weak. Loki felt fury bubble deep inside him, but he forced himself to calm.

_Focus._ He reached as deep as he could to the dreams of the mortal woman. Closer… closer… there. There. He had her. He had her!

Loki called Gungnir back to his hand and held it out in front of him carefully. He could see her thoughts. He could see all of them. He could see her dreams… her flashbacks…

She was dreaming of Svartalfheim. Loki saw himself. His body was punctured by a long spear, blood pooling at his feet as he smiled at the mortal, and she was suspended in the air in a never-ending cycle of suffocation on behalf of the Aether. Thor was lying on the floor with his arm sliced into multiple pieces.

The entire sky was red.

Loki could hardly keep himself for laughing out loud. This was everything he could have hoped for. What he could do with all that power… she would be useless on her own with the Aether still running through her veins. He could help her harness it. He could use it himself. What better than to use it to make sure he kept the throne? To make his presence on the throne felt more than anything else in the whole world? No longer would it be Odin on the throne—it would be _Loki._

He watched as Jane's body fell limply to the ground, as Loki's dream-self spat blood on the dirt and picked her up. _"I bring you a gift," _said the illusion. Jane was thrown to the ground again, and she was lifted up, up, up, until the Aether began seeping out of her in rungs of blood red liquid.

Loki had all the information he needed. The Aether was still prevalent, resting deep inside the body and core of this mortal plaything Thor was so taken with… and Loki would use it. He suspected heavily that was also why the damage from the Dark Elves on Asgard was untouchable, but no matter. Once he had the Aether himself, he would be able to use that power to make Asgard glorious.

All he needed was to get his hands on Jane Foster.

He carefully waved Gungnir to take him out of the dream and found himself standing in his private room once more. Would he have to go to Midgard himself to retrieve her? Loki knew much about his illusionary skills, but as of yet, he wasn't certain if he could maintain his figure of Odin here on Asgard.

A certain tightness descended upon his chest. He felt the guilt spread across him. If only…

No. He could not think of her. He could not _allow_ himself to think of what might have been, had Thor been there faster, had Odin been with her at all times… had she not sought to protect Jane… had Loki not told the massive Dark Elf monster to take the flight of stairs to his left…

Loki threw Gungnir across the room, this time of his own accord, and squeezed his eyes shut. Had Loki not been such a monster, this would not have happened.

He did not emerge from his room for a very long while.

* * *

After an hour, Jane tried to go back to sleep. She'd spent her time awake staring at her arms, trying to catch a glimpse of the Aether glowing through her veins. Every once in a while, she'd see a glimmer, and her stomach would rise up into her throat as she struggled against vomiting at the sight.

Jane, for the life of her, didn't know what to do. Her life so far had been stuck to solving equations—making _sense _of things. She didn't know about magic, had no clue about what this could result in. She was Jane Foster, for crying out loud! She was essentially a queen of theories! The Foster Theory? She should be familiar with not knowing something! But this was on a totally new level—and Jane was scared.

She didn't know how to tell Thor. She didn't _want _to tell Thor. Who on Earth could she trust? _Rather, who in the _universe_ can I trust? _she thought dryly after a moment, before grimacing and bowing her head in her hands as she settled against her headboard. Thor was absolutely off-limits. He was busy with enough, and Jane didn't want to worry him. She'd already felt like a burden on her journey through Svartalfheim a month ago. She couldn't put him through that again.

She couldn't tell Darcy or Erik. They couldn't help her. Odin? He hated her, as far as she was concerned. She wasn't worth his time of day. The only reason Odin had bothered doing _something _about her before was because there was clearly a crisis occurring, and _that_ was the potential end of the universe as they all knew it. But now, as a simple, helpless human, Jane sorely doubted that Odin would pay her any mind.

A horrible wish descended upon her. She wished Loki were still alive. In normal circumstances, she would hate to have to resort to him, and even now, she felt an angry tremor at what he did. But she focused on Thor's old words about his brother, and Frigga's—_rest in peace,_ thought Jane solemnly—love for her son, and she found that she wished Loki were still alive to perhaps pass Frigga's wisdom onto her.

But the thought dispersed as soon as it came. Jane climbed under the covers and lay her head down on her pillow, her arms splayed out in front of her. A small red glimmer traced down the inside of her forearm. Jane shut her eyes in response, hoping to get respite from the dull pain behind her eyes.

She guessed she had perhaps a month or so, likely less, to eradicate the traces of the Aether from her body. She had no clue as to how to do that, but she figured her best bet was to find Odin and to ask him. Even if he cared little to nothing about her, she had to try. To add to that, she didn't think Odin wanted remnants of the Aether available for some being to use. Jane squashed the thought of being utilized as an object.

As her eyelids began to droop and her fingers began to relax on the mattress, Jane vaguely felt as though there was a pair of blood red, cold, _cold_ eyes watching her in the darkness.

And somewhere in Asgard, Loki smiled.

"I bring you a gift, Lady Jane. Oh, I bring you a marvelous, marvelous gift."

* * *

**I want to get this story rolling quickly, so chapter updates will be fairly frequent for the first chapters. Slightly longer chapter this time. They will get longer and longer.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! A common theme of interest seemed to be about the remnants of the Aether in Jane. I always wondered about that—I don't think someone can have something that powerful within them, especially a human like Jane, for such a long time without being affected by it. Loki's attraction to it, as well ("Oh, what I could do with the power that runs through those veins…"), seems to be important in his liking of her. **

**I hope you don't mind me bouncing to Thor every once in a while. There will be a Thor/Sif dynamic later in the fic.**

**Thank you and don't forget to keep reviewing! :)**


	3. Imagination

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!

**Notes: **Ah, I'm so excited! I never imagined this would be getting this much popularity. :)

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Imagination**

A clang of ceramic against glass jolted Jane out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Darcy staring back at her from behind her glasses, which was starting to become a rather normal occurrence.

"There she is," said Darcy, her eyebrows rising. "How's my favorite boss? Are we up for some cereal this morning? Or are you going to go all snapping turtle-y on me again?"

Jane smiled at her intern. "Sure, Darcy. I'll have some cereal."

Darcy whistled happily and tapped the table with her fingernail, where she'd left a steaming mug of hot milk, before going into the hallway and rapping on Erik's door. "Erik, bud, you awake?"

There was a muffle in the room and then a call of, "Be right out!"

Jane watched as Darcy went back to the kitchen and started pulling out boxes of cereal. "What'cha want, Jane? We've got Cheerios—_pip pip, cheerio! _I love Brits—and Cinnamon Toast Crunch… I don't know why we have Fruit Loops, but we do… want Fruit Loops?"

"I'll just have Cheerios," said Jane. "Thanks, Darcy."

"You're welcome. Don't want you up my butt again today. Hey, Erik!"

Erik had emerged from his room, pant-less, of course, with his grey hair tossed around his head. "Good morning, ladies," he said. His words prompted Jane to smile at his attitude. It was nice to see her guardian upbeat after all that had happened to him.

"Morning, Erik," said Jane. "Sleep well?"

Erik nodded. "These past few weeks have been a wonder to me. I feel like my old self again!" He peered closely at her. "But Jane, you look awful. Haven't you been sleeping? Are you sick?"

"That's what I told her yesterday," said Darcy.

"I'm fine," said Jane to Erik reassuringly.

"That's what she told me yesterday," said Darcy.

"You don't _look_ fine," replied Erik.

"That's what I told her yesterday," said Darcy. She shrugged when Jane and Erik turned to stare at her. "What? It's the truth!"

Jane sighed and picked up the glass of milk Darcy had left for her on the table. "I've been having trouble sleeping, Erik. Don't worry about me. I'll get it all sorted out. I'm just happy you're doing well."

"I won't do well if you're not doing well, Jane," said Erik genuinely as he sat down beside her. "What can I do to help?"

"Sorry, pops, this is probably something you can't help out with," Darcy interrupted, handing Jane a bowl of Cheerios. "You know Jane. Just take your time recovering. She won't let you help out anyway. I'll help her out. Won't I, Jane?"

Jane couldn't help but smile as Erik scoffed. "I want to know what's wrong, Jane. Why are you having trouble sleeping?"

"Really, Erik, I don't know," Jane lied uneasily. "I'll go see a doctor soon."

Her friend nodded in approval. "Good. Having a lack of sleep is an awful feeling, Jane."

Jane smiled guiltily and began to mix her cereal around in her bowl. She could feel the Aether pressing against her head like an awful congestion, and it was true when she said she couldn't sleep—she dreamt of the same thing every night. Thor on the ground in pieces. Loki stabbed multiple times in the gut. The Aether drenching everything in blood red. Thor on the ground in pieces. Loki smiling at her with bloodied teeth. The Aether streaming out of her pores like a viral infection. Thor on the ground in pieces…

She blinked. _It's just your imagination, Jane. It isn't real. Thor is alright. Thor is alright…_

"Who wants to know what Ian and I were up to last night?" said Darcy all of a sudden.

Erik grimaced while Jane said, "What did you guys do?"

"Watch _World War Z. _It was a-w-e-s-o-m-e. Do you think zombies are real? After everything that's happened, I wouldn't be surprised. And Ian is the best person to watch movies with. He gets all scared and screams like a girl."

"I wonder who wears the pants in your relationship," said Erik. Jane's eyes threatened to roll.

"No one, actually," said Darcy, pursing her lips in interest. "He likes to walk around in his boxers when he's at home but he told me he wouldn't do that to respect me. In all honesty, I'd rather he—"

"Save it," said Jane, at the same time as Erik said, "No, thank you."

"You guys are no fun," Darcy grumbled.

Jane, feeling a headache coming along, stood from the table and picked up her untouched bowl of Cheerios. "I'm going to eat on the balcony. Is that okay?"

Erik, whose face contorted into a slight frown, didn't say a word as Darcy said, "Sure thing. Holler if you want something."

When Jane emerged on the balcony, she stared up at the cloudy London sky the grey of it seemed to tinge slightly with red. It was subtle enough that Jane wouldn't have noticed it had she not been aware of her circumstance, but noticeable enough that now that she _was _aware, she saw it everywhere.

The soft London breeze whispered in her ears as Jane switched her gaze back down to her bowl of cereal. Maybe if she stood out here, Thor would visit… maybe Heimdall would see her, tell Thor she was waiting eagerly to have Thor back at her side…

Now that she'd seen Asgard once, she wanted to see it again. Earth wasn't enough for her. Granted, she loved her home, and given a choice, she wouldn't leave it behind. But who could deny that as a scientist, having the opportunity to visit different worlds was something extraordinary?

The breeze whispered against her ears again. Jane frowned.

"Foster," said the wind. "Jane Foster."

Jane nearly dropped her bowl of cereal. "Who—" She righted herself and put her bowl on the cement wall of the balcony. Shutting her eyes, she inhaled deeply, hoping she was just imagining things.

"Jane Foster," said the wind again. It couldn't be the wind. Was it the wind? It couldn't… it had to be something else. She was going crazy.

"Who is this?" she whispered.

"Jane Foster," said the wind.

"Jane?" came a voice behind her. She turned to see Erik standing at the door. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," said Jane. "I'm just…"

She paused, spanning her fingers in front of her. Thankfully Erik couldn't see nearly invisible glimmer of red transcend through her hands from his position behind her.

"Just what, Jane?"

"Just talking to myself," she said. "I'm just talking to myself, Erik. Just thinking about what I should do with my time." Jane paused, turning to face her friend. "It's hard to find out what's interesting now that you've seen a whole new world. There's so much more I can find out… there's so much more I can do. I just can't do it from here."

"You're waiting for Thor," said Erik understandingly, moving forward and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. Jane saw Darcy imitate a figure of a heart using her hands from inside the flat.

"Yeah," said Jane. "Hopefully once he gets here I can figure out what I'm going to do."

Erik said nothing. He watched her closely, inspecting her. "Have you been _crying_, Jane?"

"What?" said Jane, caught off guard. "No—does it look like I—?"

"Your eyes are red," said Erik suspiciously. "Very bloodshot. For Pete's sake, Jane, go get some rest. Please. If I see you out of bed, I'll make you go back. You look horrible." He picked up her bowl of cereal and dragged her back inside. "Go on. Go, go. Try to get some sleep. Please."

Within seconds, she was taken to her room and the door shut behind her. Jane took a moment to look at herself in her mirror, seeing that Erik was right in all ways of what he'd said—her eyes were red, awfully so, and she could feel her knees threatening to collapse.

This couldn't be happening to her. A lifetime of coming up with solutions and she had no idea what to do. She had no clue. She was infected with what was essentially an extraterrestrial disease.

Jane remembered when the whole Aether had consumed her. Her control was gone—it was like she had been dumped somewhere far, far away from her body, left to die as the infection took her over. Like paralysis, it happened over a period of time, but since there was so much inside of her, it only took a handful of days.

Jane suspected that she would be subject to a lot more of this dull ache behind her eyes over the course of the Aether wreaking havoc on herself. It had more time to do its toll on her.

_That means you have more time to get rid of it,_ said a voice inside of her. _Or, better yet… find a use for it._

She thought of Thor. If she could overcome the sickness that the Aether was bringing her… maybe she could be more worthy of him. She had to admit it—he was a god, and the fact that he seemed so taken with her still astounded her.

But she didn't _want_ to change. _That's the problem,_ she grumbled inwardly as she fell onto her bed with a _fwump._ If only she were a little less stubborn.

And she couldn't sleep. She couldn't tell Erik that, of course, but she couldn't fall asleep and find Loki and Thor waiting in her dreams, essentially dead because of her. They were getting more and more vivid. Almost like they were really there. Almost like she was reliving everything.

* * *

"My lady," said Fandral. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to speak with you as a dear friend of mine, Fandral," said Sif, moving past him into the spar room. "You know Thor very well—"

"Hmm," Fandral interrupted, "yet not as well as _you,_ perhaps—"

"—and I need your assistance," Sif finished, casting a hard glare on him. "I do not know what to do."

"I must admit," said Fandral. "I am thoroughly enjoying all this popularity. First Thor, now you. What can I do for you?"

Sif rolled her eyes. "You are a popular one with the ladies. What do they do that attracts you?"

Fandral nearly choked. "B-beg pardon, my dear?"

The female warrior only folded her arms across her chest and regarded him expectantly. Fandral exhaled loudly and rubbed a hand over his eyes in confusion. "Dear Sif," he murmured, "I do not know why you are asking this of me. Where is this all going?"

"I think you know," said Sif. "I think everyone knows but Thor himself."

"Sif…"

"Never _mind_," Sif continued. "It's no less embarrassing when I tell you. I might as well speak to Thor myself."

"Sif, _wait."_ Fandral laid his hand on her shoulder as she turned to leave. "Your love for Thor is not something to be embarrassed about. But why ask me?"

"Because it is petty to ask anyone else during this time of chaos," Sif spat. "It is childish and awful. You, at least, I may trust to keep my words to yourself."

"Are you ashamed of yourself for feeling this way?" said Fandral, surprised. "My dear, with the recent events, I am not remotely surprised. Thor's family has undergone tremendous sorrow and harm… there was a risk of losing him, as well. Though I don't share your sentiments—" Here, Fandral made a rather undignified face. "—I admire your will."

"Who knew Fandral the Dashing would be so knowledgeable?" said Sif.

"Well, I _can_ be much more—"

"No, thank you," said Sif in mock disgust.

Fandral laughed. "Unshakable as always, my lady. Should you find yourself in need of a friend's word, I am here. I predict Volstagg the Valiant—rather, Volstagg the Voracious—and Hogun the Grim will not be so understanding of your feelings." He gave her a charming white smile, but seconds later, he became somber. "Sif, you must not express your affections in words during these dire hours. As a man of love and lust… and of strength, I must admit… words are far less powerful than actions."

"What do you perceive I've been doing all these years?" Sif said defensively.

"Fighting?"

"Very _funny,_ Fandral."

"In all seriousness," Fandral continued, "he needs someone. He has lost so much in such a short amount of time, and he must also remain here to oversee the reconstruction of Asgard. It is imperative he have someone to stay beside him since he is unable to travel to Midgard often. It pains me to say such words, but you are more capable of being here for him than his mortal woman. I am not saying I do not appreciate Lady Jane Foster. She is clearly an intelligent mortal. Perhaps impulsive. But she cannot be here for Thor." He paused to take a deep breath, then finished, "Just do as you have been doing, my dear Sif. He will come to see you in due time."

"I do not wish to upset Lady Jane," said Sif quietly. "I do actually like her a bit, you know."

"I like her, as well."

"But is it wrong that I'm selfish?" Sif burst, upset. "I live for Asgard, and for Thor. And she… I am not being a villain. I hope I am not being a villain. But if he is happy, I can be happy, too."

"It will all play out just fine, Sif," said Fandral. "If you like, I can distract Lady Jane for you. No one is immune to my—"

"Please _don't_, Fandral!"

"Only joking_,_ my dear."

Sif remained silent as she regarded him. Then, in a low voice, she pondered aloud, "My curiosity is piqued at the mention of Jane. I wonder how she fares."

"No doubt well," said Fandral fondly. "I am sure anything is better than what I'd seen. Last I saw her, she had collapsed upon herself… but then again, I was quite taken with Loki screaming as he descended from the massive ship Thor used for escape."

"You think she is well?" Sif inquired. "She is a mortal who held an ancient relic within for quite a small while. It had a toll on her, surely."

"You suspect she is still ill, then."

"I did not say that, Fandral. You are feeding words into my mouth again."

"If she were ill," said Fandral thoughtfully, "I am sure Heimdall would have noticed and would have let Thor know."

"Yes, I suppose so."

The two friends stood beside each other quietly before Fandral smiled and turned Sif to face him. He took her hand between his and said sincerely, "Do not be afraid to come to me for help, my dear."

She nodded. "Thank you. I shall keep that in mind."

"And I would like to spar sometime. For old times' sake. Even though we don't have the whole team here… Hogun in Vanaheim, Thor occupied with his duties… even Loki, whom we would torture on occasion…" Fandral sighed. "Oh, Loki."

Sif shook her head, said nothing, and looked away. It had become an unspoken agreement to speak nothing of Loki, of the younger brother Asgard had once, a long while ago, been graced with… and now the very thought of him drew a solemn face on every Aesir's face. His funeral was in several days. The less mention of him, the Aesir noticed, the better.

* * *

_Sleep, Jane,_ she told herself. _Make Erik happy. Please? You can do it… the dream isn't real… you can do it._ But what better was fitful sleep than no sleep at all? She dreaded it. She dreaded the image of red. She never thought she'd hate red so much.

_Sleep, Jane,_ she told herself again. _Please…_

When her eyes shut, even though it was eleven in the morning and the sun was bursting through her curtains, she fell asleep almost immediately. But what did not appear was the blood red dream, the sight of Thor disseminated on the grey and brown plains of Svartalfheim.

Jane never would have thought she'd be so happy to see green in her life.

"_Loki?_" she said in awe.

It was then she noticed how they were sitting: she sat in front of him, her legs crossed in front of her American-Indian style, and she took a chance to notice he sat the exact same way, mirroring her position.

"You can't be here," she said. "You're dead."

"It's your dream, Jane Foster," said Loki. He grinned, his teeth glimmering in the brightness of her dream. "I can be wherever you want me to be."

"Can you help me?" she burst out.

He leaned forward, intrigued. "Help you with what, mortal? Have you something in return?" The grin widened on his visage. "Surely you know I require use of something you ask of me."

"This isn't a joke," she said desperately. "I know you're gone and you can't come back. I know it's crazy I'm asking for help from my own subconscious. But I'm _dying._"

"Why are you surprised, Jane Foster?" Loki asked. "It would be best if you lay low and let the Aether run its course…"

"How could you say that?" demanded Jane. "It could use me again. It could be devastating. I don't want to be some vessel for this disease."

"You aren't getting it, now, are you?" Loki countered calmly. "Let the Aether run its course… you could be so much more than you are now."

"I don't _want_ that, Loki."

"Pity. Your loss."

Jane was sorely tempted to get up and leave, but she had the awful temptation of continuing the conversation. "What do I do? Where do I go? Who do I talk to?"

"Talking to yourself is a start."

"I'm being _serious,"_ she said.

"As am I, Jane Foster," said the God of Lies. "Shall I take your hands and guide you? Is that what you want? You won't get much out of me. As you've said yourself, I'm dead."

She ignored his words, instead inquiring, "Do I tell Thor?"

"And let him do what?" Loki answered. "He can't do a thing. Best not trouble him, now."

"Odin?"

"You could," said Loki, the corners of his lips quirking knowingly. "I don't know how willing he'll be to help you…"

"I don't have another choice," said Jane miserably.

"How are you _feeling,_ Jane Foster?" Loki asked her. "You seem to be holding up."

She shook her head. "It all feels so dizzying. It isn't so bad, yet. I guess it's like a tumor. It'll get worse as it goes along." She looked at him helplessly, before frowning. "My impression of you is a lot more charming than you actually are—were—in real life."

"Am I, now?" said Loki. Something flashed in his eyes. "Are you _sure,_ Lady Jane?"

Suddenly, he flickered from in front of her and disappeared with a shimmer of gold. Alarmed, Jane made to get up from her position before she felt a hand tip her chin up. There was a whisper at her ear.

"Jane Foster," he breathed. Jane shivered. His breath felt like the London breeze. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

"You're Loki," she said. "You're dead."

The sound of his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth was loud in her ear. "Lies beget lies, my lady."

She relaxed as his presence beside her diminished before vanishing completely. He appeared before her once more, this time standing, and he smiled at her charmingly. "Do not dream of me too often, Jane Foster, or I will see you in Asgard soon enough. Now, I believe you have rested for a comfortable amount of time."

Loki turned away, but his voice still sounded as if it were all around her. "Where were we? Oh, yes… Svartalfheim. I believe it went a little like this." His figure was suddenly punctured with a sword, and he moved away to show Thor on the ground, his hand missing, lying in a pool of blood, and red began to seep into Jane's vision.

"Wake me up, Loki," she pleaded. "Please!"

He turned around to face her once more. "As you wish, my lady." To her relief, his smile was white, trusting.

He wove a hand over her eyes.

She woke.

* * *

How _easy_ it was! Mortals were so predictable, and Jane Foster was the same, almost laughably so. He could sense the power of the relic inside her. It was addictive. Incredibly attractive. Loki almost wanted to make her sleep again to find the power of the Aether, to take it as his own.

He could do it. Jane wanted to be rid of the Aether. He could offer to take it from her… which would require his reveal. But he could do it. He highly suspected if she kept the Aether inside herself, she would die. It was true he told her lay low, to let the relic run its course. But he knew what would happen already. She was a mortal. She would die. If not in several days, then perhaps in a month or two.

But _he, _Loki… he would perhaps be able to survive. What a wonderful thought.

He ignored the feeling within him. The feeling of Frigga still speaking to him. "_My son,_" said her voice, "_you cannot trust these relics…"_

Loki's eyes narrowed. He wasn't doing this for her. He was doing this for himself. He'd show Asgard what they'd missed.

"Oh, mother," he whispered, a solemn smile crossing his lips. "I am sorry I could not make you proud."

He was, in a way. And he missed her greatly, felt horrible remorse for what had happened… but he was king now. And he needed to do whatever it took to ensure the prosper of Asgard, if only to redeem himself of his origins. With the Aether, he could do that.

With Jane Foster, he noted ecstatically, he would do that. All he had to do was teach her how to get rid of the Aether.

Loki chuckled to himself. _Time to put t__he legends of The Weeping Gate to the test._

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**To ****Guest**** (who is really into the effects of the Aether on Jane): I was super interested in what would happen to Jane as a result of being exposed to the Aether, as well. I think it's an incredibly interesting and potentially dangerous thing to happen. For the plot in this fic to work, I'm going to have to admit that the Aether will work much more like a terminal sickness in anyone who hosts it, rather than something that gives Jane any potential abilities (to be frank, I don't think she'd really want any abilities, either. I think she's perfectly happy the way she is). It depends on what sort of being they actually are—in Jane's case, a human. Since there's only a trace of the Aether in Jane rather than all of it, the Aether will definitely grow like a sort of parasite within her. Ultimately, the goal is to get rid of the Aether from Jane's body, or else she will die. At least, that's Jane's goal. Thanks for the review! Your questions really got me thinking.**

**To everyone else—I'm happy you all are enjoying this so far. Please continue reviewing! :)**


	4. Expedition

**Disclaimer: **Nope, don't own anything. Sorry!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Expedition**

The Gatekeeper's eyes opened as he heard the God of Thunder's footsteps sound from behind him. Thor was not necessarily a loud, cumbersome being, and over time he had indeed learned to be quite stealthy. But it was difficult to hide from Heimdall's senses. Heimdall could see all, whenever he cast his eyes upon that which he was told to watch.

"Heimdall," greeted Thor warmly.

"Prince Thor," said Heimdall in response. "What may I do for you?"

Thor glanced down, then looked back up at the Gatekeeper. "I would like to voyage to Midgard, Heimdall. I won't be gone long—I simply wish to bring Jane back here. For… well, I am sure you know what for."

"It would be wise if you did not leave Asgard, my prince," said Heimdall, before sheathing his Gatekeeper's sword into the Bifrost. Thor watched as he did so, looking remorseful, but he didn't say a word. Heimdall let his gaze wander over Thor once more before he continued, "As long as you return safely and quickly, I do not have to cast my eyes on you."

The implication was there: Heimdall would let Thor leave. Grateful, Thor positioned himself in front of Heimdall.

"Safe journey, my prince," said Heimdall.

With a whirl and a blinding flash of white light, Thor vanished, and Heimdall stood at the helm of the gate, ready to receive him when he returned.

* * *

There was a familiar whirl from behind Jane as she was finishing putting her equipment back in their respective places after conducting a research experiment with Erik. Darcy gasped from her spot in front of the television set, before pointing outside to the balcony and shrieking, "Jane! Look, look, _look!_" Ian, who stopped by a little while ago, looked like a little boy on Christmas, and Erik seemed immensely relieved to see the Asgardian.

Jane felt herself swell at the sight of him. She ran to the door of the balcony, nearly tripping on her way there. He was here. Thor was here. Thor, in all his wonderful, majestic, golden glory, was on her balcony. She was saved.

"Hello, Jane," he said with an amused smile as she lunged into his arms. His voice was low, deep, reassuring—she'd missed it greatly. He was warm. Real. In one piece. She instinctively checked his right hand. _Good,_ she thought in relief.

"Jane," came Thor's voice from above her. "I do not have long. I have come to ask you an important question."

Her chest tightened at his words. "What is it?"

"In two days' time," began Thor, his warm smile quickly being replaced by a downward tilt f the corners of his mouth, "Loki's funeral will take place."

Jane clenched her hands harder around Thor's forearms.

"Will you accompany me?" he inquired softly. "I'm afraid I do not have many people left who I wish to spend time with. My mother… Loki… they're gone."

"Yes, Thor," she said immediately. She didn't have to think about it at all. "Yes. Of course I'll come back with you. Oh, Thor." She clenched at him again, hoping his strength would feed into her. She couldn't imagine how he was coping. She had lost both her parents when she was younger, but she hadn't spent millennia with them. And—she swallowed as she thought of it—she'd never spent her childhood with a sibling.

Thor pulled away, looking at Jane closely. "And how are you, Jane? I am sorry, I have not been able to journey to Midgard as often as I would like. Reparations in Asgard have been…" Thor faltered. "Well, I'm sure you can imagine."

She looked away guiltily. "I'm fine, Thor. No need to worry."

There was a soft breeze on the balcony. "_Liar,"_ said the wind. Jane started uneasily. Had Thor heard that?

"You're well, then," said Thor.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I'm fine."

"That's what she told me, too," called Darcy from inside the flat. Ian's voice piped up incomprehensibly before there was a resounding _smack!_ and Ian crowed, "_Ow! _What was _that_ for?"

Thor, thankfully, didn't question Jane. "Good," he said, appeased. "Shall we go? I'm afraid it will not bode well if I keep Heimdall waiting."

Jane held up a finger. "Alright. But let me just say goodbye first."

She headed inside, leaving Thor waiting patiently on the balcony. Erik found her and gave her a hug, holding her tightly.

"Be safe," said Erik. "I want you to come back well rested, Jane. You understand me?"

She nodded and embraced him back. "You, too," she told him. "We'll both be better."

There was a tap on her shoulder and she pulled away to find Darcy with her arms outstretched, Ian standing behind her.

"Hug me!" Darcy commanded. Jane laughed and did as she was told.

"You better come back with another alien boy," said Darcy, waggling her eyebrows once Jane pulled away. "I want one."

"Hey!" said Ian, affronted.

"Just kidding."

"Well," said Jane, "I'm going to go. I won't be gone long, hopefully. And Erik," she added, turning back to face her friend. "I'll be sure to bring you lots of great discoveries and research. If I can, anyway."

She stepped away. Some sort of awful sensation began to press against her at all sides; she found it difficult to breathe. Hopefully she would see them again… if she could find help in Asgard. She had to ask Odin. Jane could hardly dare to hope that he would deem her worthy enough to save. She forced herself to smile as she headed back to the balcony, where Thor was waiting.

"Ready?" he asked her. She nodded her assent, and he said, "Don't let go."

She gripped hard at his silver, polished armor, twisting her head back to find Erik, Darcy and Ian once more. A last London breeze pulled at her hair and she could just barely see red at the edges of her vision. She gave a small wave to the three waiting within the flat as Thor called up to Heimdall in the heavens.

And then, they were gone.

* * *

Loki—disguised as Odin, of course—was in a meeting when he felt it. _Her._ The pull was much more noticeable. It was alive. It had a heart.

Jane Foster's heart.

It hit him like a ton of brick. She was here in Asgard. He'd felt it in her ream, when he'd slithered up against her and had taunted her, feeling the Aether respond gloriously.

"All Father?" said one of the lords in concern as Loki keeled over his throne when it happened.

"Worry not," said Loki hoarsely. "I am well."

"Do you require a healer, my liege?" inquired another lord.

"No. Please continue."

The lords looked at each other hesitantly. The first lord licked his lips as his eyebrows rose. "The southernmost region of the market is still unable to repair the roads, my liege. This sorcery is evasive."

"Do not fret," said Loki calmly. "I have understood the source of this mysticism. Reparations will soon be able to be conducted."

The lords regarded Loki curiously, but did not ask him anything. They knew better.

When the council was terminated, Loki could not have wished for them to leave any faster. The second it was only him in the throne room, Loki leaned back into his throne and let out a hearty laugh.

It was all too _easy._ He couldn't wait until he finally had his hands on the relic. What could he do with that power? His fingers trembled just thinking about it. Its pull was addicting. Like a drug. Like a wonderful, wonderful drug.

He could feel the Aether. The power of it was still miniscule compared to what Loki had felt when he had first met Jane Foster.

And Jane Foster! What a being! He couldn't help but admit it. He was excited. She was defiant, lively, intelligent—it astounded Loki to know she was entranced by Thor.

Loki would simply wait for her to come to him. She would come. He was sure of it.

_You _cannot_ be too willing, _said Loki to himself. He sat thoughtfully for a moment. A wicked grin spread across his features.

How Loki loved games.

* * *

"Welcome back to Asgard, Lady Jane Foster," came the deep rumble of Heimdall as she stumbled into the dome of the Bifrost. Behind her, she heard Thor descend gracefully onto the floor as the white light from the pathway dissipated. Jane clearly had yet to get used to travelling via Bifrost.

"Thank you," she said politely as Thor helped her up from her spot on the floor. When she looked up at Heimdall, she found him regarding her with what looked surprisingly enough like discomfort.

Jane knew why he looked at her that way. Thankfully, the Gatekeeper didn't say a word on the peculiarity of it. His eyes switched back to staring out at space, beyond the gates of the Bifrost.

Thor bid good day to Heimdall and took Jane to the Rainbow Bridge, where two white stallions were waiting for them. It gave Jane a sense of familiarity to feel as though there were certain similarities between Asgard and Earth.

She looked up at the sky. Now, the sky here, she'd missed. It was beautiful. Astonishing. She could hardly comprehend the notion that this world saw completely different stars and galaxies than what she saw back on Earth. If only there wasn't that viral blood red at the edge of her vision…

"Jane," prompted Thor, drawing her out of her thoughts. "Shall we?" He gestured to the palace in the distance.

As Thor helped her mount her familiar animal from back home, she prepared herself to face Odin later in the day.

The ride to the palace was fairly short; the little time spent travelling, Jane used to admire the opulent, lavish sights around her. Flowers she'd never seen the likes of before bloomed in every green corner. Birds—if she could call them that—sung high up from above them. Everything was warm. Godlike.

She felt trapped, all of a sudden. She didn't belong here, with these immortal beings who could kill her in a single human heartbeat. It didn't help whatsoever that all the Aesir she passed seemed healthy, attractive, clearly more belonging of being there than _she_ was. Jane felt like a horrible plague in the midst of all of them.

They passed through the markets quickly, however. To Jane's horror, the damage that had occurred during her last journey to Asgard was still prevalent. "Thor," she began in confusion, "is all this from—?"

He glanced at her once from his place on the stallion's saddle, smiled, and said reassuringly, "It is not your place to worry, Jane."

Her mouth opened to respond. Before she could, a voice interrupted them just as they entered the palace grounds.

"Thor!"

The stallions halted calmly—much unlike those on Earth—and Jane saw Volstagg, one of Thor's most trusted friends and warriors thud over to them. He carried no weapon with him; instead, he seemed uncharacteristically worried.

"Thor," said Volstagg again. "The All Father has sent for you." He took one look at Jane and took her hand, laying a polite kiss on the back of her palm. "Welcome back, Lady Jane."

"Thank you," Jane said.

Volstagg turned to Thor again after a moment, fiddling with his beard. "I see you've arrived back in time. Fandral and I have been deeply engaged in overseeing reparations."

Thor leapt off his stallion gracefully, stroking the mane of the stallion as he moved to Jane to help her off her own. As an Einherjar moved forward to take the reins, Thor approached Volstagg carefully.

"Has my father found the source of the mysterious sorcery, Volstagg?" Thor inquired.

"The word in the palace," said Volstagg knowingly, "is that he knows, but he will not say."

Jane felt her heart jump into her throat.

"I shall speak with him, then," said Thor.

Volstagg clapped a hand on Thor's shoulder, bowed slightly at Jane, and bid them good luck as he strode off. In the distance, Jane saw Fandral and Sif wave at Volstagg and take him away.

"Let us go, Jane," said Thor. "I must visit my father. Shall I escort you to your room? Or perhaps you would like to come with me to see the All Father?"

Now that Jane had the opportunity, she wasn't sure. She shoved her fear aside, however, and said, "I'll come with you."

She was grateful to see Thor's lips quirk upwards. "I expected no less," he said. "Though I thought perhaps you would like to rest… you do not look like yourself, Jane. Something seems quite different with you."

"It was just the trip from the Bifrost," Jane said, coming up with an excuse on the spot. "I'm still not used to it."

Thor said nothing for a small while, only laying a soft kiss on her cheek. Then, he said, "You _will_ tell me if something ails you, Jane?"

"Of course, Thor," she told him.

Thor looked enormously relieved. He grasped her hands and regarded her sincerely. "Thank you. I have been worried for quite some time."

Jane said nothing more; her stomach churned uncomfortably, and she decided with a heavy heart to keep him from the truth because she knew he would be kept from his duties if she told him. She couldn't do that. She owed so much to him already.

They made their way into Thor's grand, golden home, where nobles and Einherjar were bustling about. The din was quiet and respectful. Everyone was polite to the prince Jane was accompanying. They all paid the same devoted regard to Jane herself, and yet, some looked hopeful, and some, she could tell, were irate at her relationship with Thor. Most likely, she was regarded as unworthy of his affections. Frankly, Jane didn't blame them.

Approaching the great throne hall, where the massive open doors were guarded by several Einherjar, Jane caught sight of Odin on the throne. Was it just her? Or did she feel better just looking at him?

Thor marched up to his gather, greeting him warmly. "Hello, Father."

Odin nodded back at him as they both made their way to the space in front of the All Father. "Good eve, my son." He paused, before adding, "I see you have voyaged to Midgard… despite my wishes for you to remain here."

"Forgive me, Father," said Thor. "After all that has come to pass… I wish Jane to remain by me during this time."

Jane watched cautiously as Odin's eye wandered over to her. The blood in her veins thrummed toward him as he did so. She froze. She'd felt a much stronger pull back when the entirety of the Aether had been within her… back when she'd met Loki. But that didn't make any sense… maybe the Aether called to powerful mystics? Perhaps. She suspected Odin certainly had some skill of sorcery, himself. A little more at ease, she said nothing as he spoke again.

"I cannot bind you here forever." Odin's voice seemed resigned. "So long as you are here to partake in your duties. You are still a prince, even if you do not wish to be king."

"I understand."

There was a pregnant pause. Thor looked at Jane, somewhat apologetically—though she didn't quite comprehend why—and he started, "Volstagg has come to me with news that you have discovered the source of the magic acting against our reparation efforts."

"I have."

Silence.

"May I ask what it is?"

"No," said Odin shortly.

Thor pursed his lips, clearly frustrated. "Father—I feel that as part of my duties to the throne, I should have _some_ knowledge of what is going on. Half my time these days are spent with the lords and their attendants in their various districts of Asgard, overseeing reconstruction from the Dark Elves."

"No, Thor," repeated Odin.

"But if you know—" Thor did his best to keep his tone as diplomatic as possible. "—it would be better if—"

"Thor!" said Odin, his voice hard as he stood from his throne and slapped his ornate spear on the floor of the room in harsh command. "My word is final—I have reason for not speaking of the source to anyone."

Thor, understandably upset, clenched his fists and replied tersely, "Of course, All Father."

With a gloom hanging over the God of Thunder, Jane followed him out, allowing one spare glance back to Odin as they left.

The All Father met her look with his one eye. Jane could have sword he smiled.

* * *

That had been one of the more embarrassing moments Thor had encountered against his father in a long while. He had done his best to act wisely as his father had wanted him to learn over the past couple years, ever since he had been deposited on Midgard rather unceremoniously and without Mjolnir.

Not to mention Jane had been right beside him. Thor wasn't concerned with much of how he was presented to her—he'd been through much worse. No—Thor was concerned of what _Odin_ thought of _her._ It was important for Odin to accept Thor's woman. Even if Thor insisted not becoming king… well, he didn't quite know what to do, but Thor desperately wished for Jane to be welcomed to Asgard by Odin.

"Jane," Thor began as he walked her to her room," I am terribly apologetic for what occurred with my father."

She gave him a soft smile. "It's alright. I don't mind." She seemed to fidget much more than Thor was used to. Somehow, he believed she wasn't quite as alright as she made out to be. He wondered what she could be so adamant on keeping from him. Thor would not press her, however. He hoped she would not be plagued forever—he did not want to lose someone else, not after…

Thor swallowed thickly, pushing the thought away.

"Here we are," said Thor as he showed Jane to her room in the designated wing. "Loki's funeral is in two days' time. I understand if you would like to spend the day instead doing 'research', but I would much rather prefer…" He trailed off, unsure.

Jane laid a soft hand on his arm. "I'll be there."

He kissed her cheek in gratitude. "Thank you. Please rest well, Jane."

With that, he left her to her own.

On his way to his own private rooms, Thor decided to find one of the Einherjar in order to deliver a message to escort Jane throughout the palace the next day since he would be occupied with the reconstruction efforts, as he had been for several weeks, now. It never happened. Instead of finding a guard, he found Sif waiting at the doorway to his rooms.

Rather pleasantly taken aback, Thor decided he could wait on the task of finding a guard. "Hello, Sif," he said to his dear friend, happy to see her after a never-ending day of meetings, travelling, and incessant, unhelpful blather.

Her lips tilted upward in response. "Good evening, Thor. Would you, by chance, be able to spare a minute?"

"There is never a moment when you are required to ask that of me," he told her seriously. "I am always inclined to spare you a minute."

Sif looked considerably brighter at his words, but she seemed to deflate slightly as she struggled to say something. "Thor… you have always been a dear friend of mine, and I believe that our conversation before your journey to Svartalfheim with Lady Jane and L-Loki—" Here, Sif was clearly hesitant, but she powered through. "—may have left a bad impression of me in your thoughts."

"Nonsense, Sif. You are a dear friend to me, a well. I should not like to think of what may have happened had I not grown with you in our childhood."

Sif seemed to want to look everywhere but at Thor himself. Her eyes shifted every which way, from the floor to the wall behind him, from his hands to her right, wherever Thor's eyes weren't. Then, with a characteristic burst of confidence, she locked her eyes onto his and said, "But, Thor—I do not know if you understand that I am in love with you."

Thor waited a moment, glancing away from her. Finally, he said in a nearly inaudible voice, "I know." He took one of her hands in his. "I just do not want you to be with someone who does not give you the attention you deserve. I cannot give you that. I wish," he added, and in some way, he did—but he perhaps fate did not plan that for him, "that I could give it to you so you would be of a happy heart. But, my dear Sif, I cannot do it."

"Then please," said Sif, "please, please, do not shun me in this crucial time for you. I _am _your friend, not just a warrior. You know this, yes?"

"Of course."

"Thank you," said Sif, her voice cracking slightly. To any other, she would have sounded the same. Thor knew her better. "I am glad to see you happy with one you love, Thor."

"I hope to say the same for you, someday," he replied, embracing her tightly.

She did not respond, instead deciding to sink in his arms and soak in the moment before he pulled away. When she left him to his own, he did not think of much else for a long, long while.

* * *

**I have a massive obsession with getting this story rolling. We're only just now starting the true plot, my friends. Finally, Jane's seen "Odin" and can feel her Aether reacting to the magic that pulls her toward Loki. The way the Aether works in the fic is like this: if there is a powerful sorcerer around, the Aether will react positively to it unless it is being threatened.**

**To Guest: Loki will mostly be using dreams to communicate with Jane before she actually knows he's alive :)**

**Speaking like that, it's safe to assume the Aether is "calling" to anything that can wield it, much like it called to Malekith, a powerful sorcerer. Loki, being a master himself, can feel the call of the Aether, as well. Weaker sorcerers can't feel the Aether's presence, **_**especially**_** not when it's only a small bit of what used to be there. That's why many people don't notice the Aether still residing in Jane, like how Thor never realized. Odin, for all his strength, is also a relatively strong sorcerer, based on his magic against Thor back when Thor was exiled. **

**By the way, the Thor/Sif dynamic is being established now because the majority of the fic won't let that happen. **

**Thank you all for your reviews! Keep 'em coming! **


	5. Dissolution

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Dissolution**

Like a terminal illness, the Aether acted against its vessel to gain strength. Loki could tell by the severe changes in Jane as he watched her from afar; a terminal illness would start slow, like a dance. A waltz, perhaps. Then, once the dancer recognized his or her fatigue, the effect of the dance would increase… adding onto the exhaustion already plaguing the performer.

A fatal disease acted much in the same way. At first, the host did not notice anything wrong with him or herself—this was the incubation period, when the virus only started to settle down in its host. Symptoms, Loki knew, would take a long while to show. But once the symptoms came… once the dancer felt the pain… everything happened all at once.

The Aether was the same.

Loki had spent all night focusing on the attraction he felt as a result from the Aether calling out to his magic. He suspected heavily that this was the same effect the Aether had on every powerful sorcerer of his level, much like it had on Malekith. It needed a vessel with magic to help it grow. That is, it called to it. However, the Aether would not refuse any being that sought it out, which was why Jane Foster was so lucky—rather, perhaps not so lucky—in discovering the ancient relic.

But Loki had been up all night, not only because the Aether was screaming to his own blood, making him dizzy with its call, but also because its host was terrifyingly sick. Like a terminal illness, the Aether's powers descended upon the mortal all at once, and her frail body could not handle it.

Loki supposed this was what Midgardians called "science".

In order to expunge the illness—rather, in a sad attempt to get rid of it—Jane had woken up in a frightful fit of coughing. She lurched from her bed in her guest room, Loki saw with a sickeningly pleased feeling in his gut, and spat blood out onto the floor in the dead of the night. It wasn't as if Loki liked seeing blood. No, he rather hated it. In fact, the sight of Jane Foster so weak and helpless made Loki cringe inwardly. But the sight of her inability to remain as a proper host for the Aether only served to heighten his suspicions about the Aether being more welcoming to a powerful sorcerer rather than a simple mortal.

With a painful start, Loki wondered if that was how Frigga looked when she was killed by the beast such a short while ago. If she had blood dripping from her lips down her front. If she had that one last desolate hope in her eyes that Odin or Thor would save her.

So Loki had left Jane in her room, alone, as she regurgitated on her toxic blood. But he pitied her horribly and decided to blow a quiet breath of mystic air her way. It would do no good for his relic to perish so soon.

When he did leave, he thought greatly about his way of bribing Jane to come along with him. To trust him. It would be difficult, but he needed to find a way to get Jane to want to travel with him to the Weeping Gate. Odin could not travel. Loki knew he had to entrust her with his secret; she would find it hard to trust him after doing so, but it was mandatory. She wanted to get rid of the Aether from her body. He would offer that to her… and take it for himself.

He was on his way back to the throne when Jane was asleep once more, after dispelling the illusion he kept of Odin back for appearance purposes. It was then he nearly collided into Sif, which would have been disastrous due to his current state of invisibility. Thankfully, he missed her by a hair, cursing violently in his head as he lurched away in a split second and stared at her as she stopped and looked around.

"Who wanders here?" she demanded, her hand going to the double-edged blade at her hip. "Show yourself!"

Loki grit his teeth and transformed an illusion into a guard who stepped out from behind a column. "My deepest apologies, Lady Sif," said the guard, bowing respectfully. "Please forgive the intrusion. The All Father has instructed me to keep watch in this area of the palace."

Sif relaxed, her hand dropping from the hilt of her blade. "Perhaps you may wish to go about your duties less conspicuously."

Loki had the decency to make the guard flush slightly in embarrassment. "Of course, Lady Sif."

"Good night," said Sif, moving past the guard.

"Good night," the guard called after her. As soon as she turned the corner, the guard dissipated, and Loki stalked back to his room in a hurry to avoid others. He didn't want to take chances; he had been doing so well for the past month that he didn't want to lose all of his hard work in the span of a few measly days solely because of an obsession with his fool of a brother's plaything.

_Not the mortal,_ he reminded himself bitterly. _The ancient relic._

By the time Loki arrived at his room, he was exhausted by what he'd seen. He had thought too much about Jane Foster. He had more important things to worry about than if she would be able to get over the vomiting of blood, to which he cringed horribly. He could not fathom the reaction she'd had to the Aether after such a long while with the Aether still residing in her body.

He had more important things to focus on, he reminded himself, this time letting his mind wander to the reparation efforts. Loki wondered if there existed a way to essentially switch off the Aether's sorcery on the damage done to Asgard by the Dark Elves. He was sure there was; Asgard could not suffer any longer as the hands of such powerful, sentient magic.

Loki looked at the reflection of Odin in the decorative mirror in his room before letting the trademark gold glimmers pull away the image of the All Father, and he replaced it with his own image.

Loki's fingers lifted and touched the spot on his forehead where the Jotunn markings would appear on his face would he be able to remove Odin's magic.

If the old man were _dead_, perhaps the illusion would fade. In all honesty, Loki had been tempted to see if he could do without the illusion without killing Odin, but he found with a very irritated heart that the All Father would have to die in order to take the spell away. And Loki—no matter how much he tried—could not wish for it.

That would not be what Frigga wanted, nor what Loki wanted. Loki despised the blue creature that hid under his pale skin. He could not get rid of whatever magic the All Father had bound against him in order to conceal his true form. And the All Father would not even bother removing it himself—Loki was sure that the sight of his so-called son with blue skin, blood-red eyes, and pale, raised skin markings would lead to a surge of hatred in the All Father's heart.

Now, Odin himself lay in the deepest corner of the dungeons, where he would not be found by anyone else. The old fool had collapsed onto the floor in a heap of red and white, Gungnir clattering to the side with a resounding clang. Just like that, at Loki's revelation of his own death in Svartalfheim minutes after he'd come back disguised as a guard, the All Father descended into the Odinsleep.

He'd made it too easy.

Loki had instantly transported both him and Odin to the deepest, darkest regions of Asgard's dungeons; there, the All Father was concealed comfortably using a few spells. No one would spot him.

And, if he truly wanted to admit it to himself, Loki knew Odin could wake from the Odinsleep in peace. But he chose not to think of that moment; the old man was nothing without the woman who had advised him for millennia, and Loki knew Odin was better off away from the throne for the time being.

_For forever,_ said Loki to himself snidely. _That fool will never be able to offer Asgard what it deserves after Frigga's death. I can offer everything—I have been made to rule._

He ignored the gaping truth of his origins and instead focused on the task at hand: ridding Jane Foster of the trace amount of Aether in her mortal body in order to use it to make Asgard what Odin could never succeed in doing.

Loki stared at his pale complexion for a moment longer before letting his arm fall back down to his side. For a second, he thought he could see the true scarlet color of his eyes reflect back at him from the mirror. Like the Aether. Like blood.

* * *

Jane heaved over the side of her bed, her eyes squeezed shut against the vile image of what awaited her from the floor. She could feel the nauseating pain in her stomach mixing with a peculiar sense of power, but the most noticeable feeling was the ache behind her eyes. If she could gouge out her eyes, she would.

She steeled herself for what she was going to see once she opened her eyes. Jane knew exactly what had bubbled up through her throat. The coppery taste of it lingered venomously on her tongue, surely staining her teeth traitorously. There was no way to hide this from anyone until she could find cold water to rinse her teeth off with.

When she opened her eyes and saw the blood pooled at the heels of her covers, she nearly threw up all over again. She swallowed it down with incredibly difficulty and sat upright, still keeping her eyes locked on the deep, dark red liquid staining the crisp, rich, golden floor of her room. Jane couldn't tear her eyes off of it.

That was when it happened. The glow of the Aether. It shimmered through the blood like the starts shimmered in the Asgardian sky… or like the Rainbow Bridge… or like Malekith's deadly eyes…

She tore her eyes from the substance then, unable to stare at a poison she knew was running through her veins. Inwardly, Jane wondered how long she would have lasted had the entirety of the Aether remained within her before Malekith had acquired it.

She wouldn't have lasted another day.

Jane pushed herself off the bed and wavered on the spot as she tried to gather her surroundings. _You're in Asgard,_ she thought to herself. _You're safe in Asgard with Thor ready to help you when you need it…_

She caught sight of her reflection in the ornate mirror hanging across from her bed. She was pale, as though she hadn't had much sleep the night before at all. The bags under her eyes were a miserable red and blue, and her hair was lying lank against the sides of her head. That was when she felt the air around her move, breathing through her whole body, and the nausea inside her vanished.

_That,_ Jane decided, _was really weird. _It was almost as if someone had doused her in some numbing solution. She still felt awful, but she no longer needed to dump all her blood cells out in front of her.

Jane exhaled for several seconds before getting to work; she rinsed her mouth with water sitting beside her bed and ran a jeweled comb through her hair, trying to make herself appear as presentable as possible. When she was finished, she looked better, but the bags under her eyes were still gruesomely visible.

Turning back around to her bed, she cringed at the sight of a small puddle of blood still on the floor. She clenched her teeth and got to work.

* * *

Jane was lying on her bed for what seemed to be hours, since she could start to hear the bustling action of servants in the hall outside her room as she stared up at the ceiling of her room, when there was a knock on the door. When she called, "Come in," the door was silently pushed open to reveal Sif.

Surprised, Jane quickly sat up to say hello. In all honesty, she was incredibly intimidated by the female warrior; Sif was strong, talented, beautiful… immortal. She'd clearly known Thor for basically their entire lives. Jane, while comparing herself to the goddess who stood at the doorway, wondered for a split second if Jane could sense Jane's exhaustion.

"Good morning, Lady Jane," said Sif in her typical business-like demeanor. "I will be escorting you around the palace today, if it should please you."

Jane didn't know how to turn her down without feeling like she would be doing something wrong, so she acquiesced. Sif then peered at her with perfect furrowed brows and asked after a moment, "My lady, are you ill?"

Thankful that she had cleaned up the mess earlier, Jane replied, "It's nothing to worry about. Just acclimating to Asgard still."

Sif relaxed, though Jane wondered if she was convinced. The warrior said nothing more on that topic, instead deciding to wait politely at the threshold of her room. "Shall I wait here for you to robe, or outside?"

"I'm already dressed," said Jane, flushing slightly.

Sif's lips twitched nearly unperceivably upward. "Where would you like to go?"

Jane decided to test her luck. "Is it possible for me to visit Odin?" She winced, backtracking, "I mean, the All Father?"

"I do not know if he has any available time in his plans," said Sif. "Though I should imagine he will make room to meet with the future queen of Asgard."

"Whoa, whoa," said Jane, taken aback. "No one said anything about being a queen of anything."

Sif frowned. "Prince Thor _is_ a prince, and marrying a prince entails—"

"I know what marrying a prince entails, Sif—Lady Sif," she corrected quickly, before adding, "No one said anything about Thor and I getting _married,_ either."

"You are not being wed?" Sif inquired, her eyebrows rising.

"Well, no," said Jane. "He hasn't exactly _asked._"

When Sif did not respond, Jane sighed. "Alright. What is it? What have they been saying about me?"

"Nothing, Lady Jane," said Sif, shaking her head. "Courting is fine and natural here in Asgard… it is, however, unnatural for a prince to court a woman. Normally princes are arranged into a marriage or spend a week or two finding a suitable bride. Once the aforementioned woman is brought to reside in the palace, it is thought that the prince will have her wed to him. And you, Lady Jane, are residing within the palace."

"I'm sorry to inform you this, but on Earth, we take our time getting to know the people we'll marry," said Jane, laughing to herself slightly.

Jane saw Sif crack a slight smile. "I suppose you are right," said Sif. "Shall I walk you to the All Father's throne room, then?"

Jane decided then and there she liked Sif very much, even if she did still terrify the living daylights out of her. It was odd Thor never saw Sif in any other light than that of friendship. Sif was his best friend, in nearly all ways of the word. She was his sparring partner, his childhood friend, his confidante. But Jane liked her very, very much. Sif was still very much a woman.

She nodded to the female warrior in anticipation to speak with Odin. "Yes. That'd be great. Thank you, Sif."

Sif regarded her for a small while before cocking her head to the hallway just outside Jane's room. "The pleasure is all mine, Jane," said Sif, and Jane could tell her words were genuine.

* * *

The walk to the throne room seemed to take a thousand hours to Jane; she could have _sworn_ they'd passed that _very same_ courtyard half an hour ago, and she told Sif. But Sif just looked at her questioningly and said, "We have been walking for two minutes, Jane. Are you ill?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Jane murmured back.

Jane kept herself silent for the rest of the way there as she thought about how to present herself to Odin. Would she play cowardly, or should she be strong? If she were ever to be accepted by him, surely she had to appear as though she had strength. Especially since she was supposedly being "courted" by Thor, whatever Sif said before.

The doors to the throne room were wide open when Sif brought her around the corner of yet another glorious courtyard. There was Odin, speaking with several Einherjar before looking up and seeing her and Sif at the entrance of the hall. He sat back in his chair, his eyebrows rising, and he waved a finger at them to enter. The Einherjar dispersed with a look of respect to the lady warrior escorting Jane, but their respect transformed to slight discomfort and distaste as they saw Jane herself.

It wasn't until Jane noticed it was just her, Odin, and Sif in the throne room when she began to feel uncomfortable. How was she supposed to get Sif to leave?

"I shall leave you two to discuss on your own, my king," said Sif after a moment. Jane felt a wave of gratefulness flow through her toward the warrior. On Sif's way out, she turned around and said to Jane, "I will be waiting outside the throne hall, Lady Jane."

"Thank you," said Jane, feeling enormously relieved. Sif said nothing and exited the majestic room.

When Jane turned back to Odin, who was regarding her carefully with his one eye, she nearly blanked and ran out of the room. Luckily, he said, "You are not well."

"No," she replied, happy not to have admitted it herself.

Odin did not even blink. "I cannot help you, mortal." He raised his hand to reopen the throne doors.

"No! No, wait—" She swallowed, berating herself inwardly for acting so rudely. "Okay. I know you're dealing with a lot more right now. But I need help. The Aether—"

"I care not," said Odin. "Your death will result in the death of the Aether. A mortal body is too weak to serve as a vessel. Guards!" He waved his spear and the throne room's doors opened once more, revealing Sif and several other Einherjar, looking worried.

"You really won't help me?" Jane demanded, deciding, _To hell with propriety!_

"I see no cause," said Odin.

"Fine," said Jane hotly. "Fine. Whatever. Fine. Sif," she added, "Let's go."

Without another word, she ran out of the throne hall as Sif ran after her, calling her name.

* * *

When Thor met with his father in order to go over the processions for Loki's funeral, he expected to see Odin solemn, unwilling to speak. Instead, he found the All Father much more content with his plans than what would normally be seen. Angrily, Thor said, "Was Loki not your son, Father?"

Odin regarded Thor coolly. "I have had a good morning with my meetings, Thor. Do not disrupt it."

"This is Loki's _funeral_—"

"Do not question my motives, Thor," Odin interrupted, and the conversation was clearly supposed to be left alone. But Thor was disappointed with his father. Loki had died honorably, and Odin was not giving Loki the attention he deserved in death… he thought it bizarre.

"Very well," said Thor in bitter resignation. "But do not be surprised if I take my brother's funeral into my own hands, should you truly cease to care."

Odin said nothing. Thor could hardly keep the distaste off his face as he bent over slightly in respect and said quietly, "I await your instructions, my king."

"There are no deeds for you today, since you are eager to make well on Loki's grave," said Odin, his eyebrows rising. "Take care of your mortal, Thor."

Thor looked up, frowning. "Jane is—"

"None of my concern," his father interrupted. "But as I've had one son already foolishly gone, I do not wish to see the other disappear, as well. Think clearly. Good day, Thor."

That was Thor's clear cue to leave. "Good day, Father," he said with a tight smile. Odin said nothing as Thor exited the throne room.

Once he had done so, Thor paused in his tracks and frowned to himself. He appreciated Odin's warning f concern for Jane, but Thor could not possibly fathom why the All Father would even bother… unless something was planned for her. But Odin would never mess with anything he considered trivial, such as any Midgardian.

Thor decided to check up on Jane in case Odin truly knew something. When he reached her room in the designated guest wing, he found the door open with Jane sitting with her legs crossed on the floor, a book in front of her.

"Jane?" inquired Thor carefully.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Oh," she said breathlessly. "Thor. Hi. Sorry—Sif found me a book in your library… I thought I'd get lost in there. It's so big…"

He sat down beside her. "These are all figures of the stars." He smiled grimly at the images. "These are Loki's." The silence was long, Thor unwilling to correct himself, Jane unwilling to prompt him. Then, "_Were_ Loki's."

Jane did not say anything for a long while. Eventually, she turned the page and observed the next figure. "Obviously I can't read anything," she said, pointing to the Asgardian lettering lining the bottoms of the pages. "But that doesn't matter for things like this." Her finger traced the ink etchings of stars and constellations on the page.

Thor's eyes trailed to her face, which was framed with loose strands of her brown hair, falling past her shoulders and down her back. "Jane," he began, "you _are_ well, yes?"

She didn't look at him, clearly still focusing on the figures in front of her, and said, "I'm fine," Thor."

Unwilling to encroach, Thor said, "I shall leave you to your leisure, then."

She glanced at him, her mouth tilting upwards, and said, "Thanks."

Thor leaned forward, giving her a soft kiss to her temple, feeling the peculiar warmth of her head with his lips, and then rose from his position on the floor. "I will see you for dinner, then?"

Jane _mmm_ed in confirmation.

"Shall I send Sif for you?" Thor asked.

Jane _mmm_ed once more.

He gave her one last long look as she turned another page, drawing her knees to her chest, and he left, feeling as though he'd lost more of Jane than he could have ever hoped to gain back.

* * *

When Thor left, Jane groaned to herself and leaned back. She couldn't tell Thor what was happening to her. If she did, he would lose sight of everything until she was healed, and there didn't seem to be a clear way to do that. Jane knew that if Thor found out, he would be devastated. He'd already lost his mother… Loki… she couldn't have him worry about pitiful _her,_ who was bound to die soon enough anyway.

She could tell Sif. That was an option. Jane liked Sif; she was tough and beautiful and would know not to tell Thor of her predicament—she would know what would happen to him. _In fact, _Jane thought, _I could probably tell Sif and the others… Fandral and Volstagg? Volstagg. I could tell them… they've known Thor long enough to keep this from him._

She stared blankly at the figures of the book in front of her. They were beautiful, tinged with magic toward which the Aether inside her pulled. _This was Loki's book._ She'd asked Sif to get something for her in order to calm down from the argument with Odin. When Sif had asked her what book, Jane had immediately replied with, "Stars." And Sif returned with one of Loki's own work.

"His time was spent in the observatory and the library," Sif had said as an explanation. "As well as with his mother, practicing magic."

Jane's mind had flown back in time to her own time spent with her father before his death, looking at the stars. Her time in the library with a notebook, her time in the backyard with a telescope, her time in front of the grave, talking to her parents about her theories. No one had believed she was going to get anywhere. She was alone until Erik took her in.

Loki's book had called to her even more.

And now, as she sat and stared at the handwritten book of constellations and figures in front of her, she decided to go find Sif and to tell her about the Aether.

She shut the book carefully and placed it on her bed before leaving her room, nearly shutting her door when she saw him.

When she blinked, he was gone. But he'd been there. Green tunic, raven-black hair tumbling past his shoulders, eyes startlingly green and well and _alive._

But he was gone, and when she looked back around her, her vision was red, and she was faint.

She felt a whisper of air against her ears as she moved back into her room opting not to tell Sif, Fandral, and Volstagg of the Aether, after all.

* * *

**Hope you all like it! Sorry it took so long. I'm working on Chapter 6 now :) **

**Please leave a review!**


End file.
